Despite the doldrums, I did manage to set up an advent calendar for the boys. No daily activities this time, which in hindsight was rather prescient given my general mood during season. I went simple and used paper bags with stenciled numbers and placed them conveniently on my large bookshelf.

There was a plan to make them prettier. Holes punched in the top fold and then tied with festive ribbons. The bags hanging on a string like a banner in the archway between the living room and dining room. All sorts of things like that. After number 17 with midnight on November 30th looming, all the artsy craftsy ideas got scrapped and “good enough” became the mantra. Not like the boys care what’s on the outside anyway, right?

Now that January is here, I’m feeling better. More optimistic. The days are getting seconds longer each day. It helps. I’ve been reading this poem every morning that helps keep my mood lighter and more grateful. It is by W. H. Davies (I always want to say W. H. Auden. Is that even a poet?) and it is titled A Greeting.

Good-morning, Life – and all

Things glad and beautiful.

My pockets nothing hold,

But he that owns the gold,

The Sun, is my great friend -

His spending has no end.

The first time I read it, my mind changed Sun to Son and it took a few days before I realized my error. Now, whenever I say it to myself, I mean both things. Isn’t it wonderful that I don’t need anyone’s permission to do that? Davies has given this to the world and left it there for us to find inspiration in it even if he didn’t intend for dual interpretations. It makes me love life.

Of course the summer hasn’t been all about sickness.

Camping at Moberly Lake.

Marveling at how high Moberly Lake is.

Reconnecting with cousins and nature.

Enjoying the nightly fireside visit and sunflower seed war.

Holding the newest member of the clan (and wearing pink!).

Watching Titus get outgrown by Dad’s canola field.

Attending the wedding of two incredible people, Amy and Cory.

Getting almost outgrown by Caleb.

Spending time with family who are friends.

Ethan and his big muscles at an outdoor pool.

Climbing the big Manitoba trees.

Watching my dad win all 3 drag races in his red Camaro during amateur night.

Summer has been fun. Yes, we had to go to Manitoba in order to find some actual summer weather, but we made the most of it while we were there. I’m still peeling! The kids have seen all their cousins and are thrilled with the two new ones that just joined the ranks. We planted grass in front of our house which is taking its sweet time coming, but at least we know it’s there. We are getting things done around the yard and house that are necessary. And I got to read many new books during my enforced convalescence!

I’m a little bit embarrassed to tell you, but I have a system when I go to the library. I have to, otherwise I will end up spending the whole afternoon picking books, then seeing something else I think I need to read, then exchanging, then ending up with far too many and needing to put some back, and in the process of putting books back I see another one that catches my eye… quite frankly, it’s an exhausting cycle. So I have a list. In fact, I have many lists, but they are all organized and I usually know exactly which books I am taking home with me. Besides this list, I have a system that I am working on. I am attempting to read authors I never would have given a glance to before, because I know that there are gems out there that I just don’t know about. “Beau Geste” by P. C. Wren is one that amazed me many years ago. Same with “Mutiny on the Bounty” by Charles Nordhoff and James Norman Hall. I love those kind of surprises! Poor Luke gets to hear me natter in his ear about such and such a book and why it’s so awesome and how I was so lucky to find it at all because the cover (and I’m a book cover girl, I’ve been convinced to read some real nonsense because of good artwork) was not compelling at all. So I am reading through the fiction section, one book by each author, starting at the end. Which is Z. I read “The Book Thief” by Markus Zusak (good) and “Fertig” by Sol Yurick (so-so) and “Lady Wu” by Lin Yutang (bad). A couple of weeks ago I picked up a book by Scott Young.

It was called “Murder in a Cold Climate” and has an Inuk RCMP investigator for a protagonist. It was a mystery. It was good. So good that I did my thing whenever I find a book I really, really like and asked Wikipedia about the author. I knew he was Canadian (I love finding Canadian authors that I didn’t know about before) and that was about it. I was not prepared for what I found.

I ran out into the garage and accosted Luke with my blown mind. “This guy, who wrote this book, he grew up in your hometown!”

“Really?”

“And he’s Neil Young’s father!”

“Who?”

“You know, Neil Young, singer, songwriter extraordinaire!”

“Oh, yeah, that Neil Young. Yeah, I’m friends with his niece on Facebook.”

I was stunned into silence. My mouth dropped open. How does a person recover from getting their mind blown twice in less than ten minutes?

“Huh?” I know I made other, more unintelligible noises but I don’t know how to spell them.

“Didn’t you know?” he said, “I thought I told you that before.”

He may have, but probably when I was pregnant with one of the kids and my memory was impaired beyond all belief. During Ethan’s gestation, I was the matron of honor at my best friend’s wedding, Heather, and I cannot remember the reception for the life of me.

“Aaaagh.” I’m sure my brain’s cortex looked like one of those Tesla coils with streaks of electricity arching out to all corners of my mind. “That means that this guy who wrote this book, he was her grandfather!”

“That sounds logical.” My husband, ever the wise guy.

And then I turned around and went back inside and waited for my brain to cool down. Small world, indeed.

During the warm months of the year, this water hauling deal is quite easy. A good hose with ends that clamp and a tank are all a person needs. Winter, however, is another ballgame. Hose, yes, and clamps – both are still on the list. Add a good monkey wrench, some heat tape, a screwdriver, and possibly a propane torch and you would be a well prepared water hauler. Don’t forget the insulated work gloves, metal and skin are not made for prolonged contact in below freezing weather. You need the screwdriver to chip out the ice that always seems to collect in the valve where you connect the hose to the tank. The propane torch loosens the hose clamps so you can actually use them as they are intended. Monkey wrenches are great for turning noncooperative valves, and possibly hitting things if they get stuck together (my preferred method for dealing with unruly equipment). The heat tape is for on the valve, so that you can unfreeze it when you get home and need to pump the water into the cistern. Everybody still with me? Good.

Now that the scene is set, let me take you back to yesterday, when I decided that laundry needed to be done and a load of water was probably a smart thing to grab while in town. I drove up to the water station and got bundled up to go out and do my thing. May I remind you that it was a balmy -25 C yesterday? I hopped out of the Dodge with my water pass card, screwdriver, and monkey wrench in hand, ready for the unpleasant task of fighting with cold and unresponsive equipment. The hose was clamped to itself, so I set to work with the monkey wrench and banged it loose. Everything hooked up fairly well except that I, as a vertically challenged individual, have a hard time reaching the valve on the tank in the back of the pickup to close the clamp on securely. Yet another thing the monkey wrench is useful for (I really do like this monkey wrench. It’s big and heavy and blue.). I opened the valve and got the water started. During this whole rigamarole, another water hauler drove up and hooked up to the second station. I stood behind the truck, waiting for the water to get to the exact spot for me to shut the pump off, and he waited behind his. Small talk ensued until his (much smaller) tank had filled and he had to unhook. He took the hose off the station pump and a geyser of water erupted out. Embarrassing, especially for a water hauler pro. I started making some smarky comments, “I think the grate needed more ice,” “Newbie?” “Looks like the town is going to have to bring out the water shortage strategies again this summer.” His excuse was that the handheld controller wasn’t working and he had to go use the main controls right on the station. Yeah, right, I thought. I’ve gotten water when it’s colder than this and haven’t had to use the main controls yet this winter. Off he drove, leaving me and my tank almost filled. It finally got to that point where I had to shut down the pump and close the valve myself. I pressed “close” on the handheld. And held it down. And tried to listen to the pump over the sound of the Dodge. And realized that the pump was not shutting down, not even a little bit, and that water was going to start spilling out of the top, and in fact it already was, and I had to close that blasted valve! The water was spurting out of the top of the tank creating a huge fountain that was cascading down the sides, especially the back which was where I needed to be. I bravely stuck the monkey wrench and half myself into the frozen shock of water and closed the valve off, then ran (gingerly, remember, there is ice all around) to shut off the pump at the main controls.

I got the message, universe.

Pattern – Turn a Square by Jared Flood

Toque I made for brother-in-law Dan in 2009 that turned out too small and had diesel fuel spilled on it. Therefore, it turned into another toque for us.

Pattern – Geometric Hat by Vanessa Ewing

Another sweater for me, extra large (again) with a hood I will never use. But cozy.

Pattern - Hooded Jacket-Gracia by Debbie Bliss

Fingerless gloves that I love to wear. They took a wee bit of mocking from the husband, but now he declares they are “pretty cool.” Which means they must rock.

Pattern – Sourwood Mountain by Erica Jackofsky

A pair of socks for myself. I don’t love the colors, but they are functional and I feel no hesitation about throwing them into the washing machine.

Pattern – Harris Tweed Socks by Ali Green

“Mom, why don’t you ever knit for us? Can you make me a sweater?” I kinda thought the coolness factor of a home knit sweater was next to nil, but who am I to deny a request! Caleb claims it is super warm and wanted an orange zipper but settled for red when orange proved elusive.

Pattern – 85-2 a-Pullover in Alaska by Drops Design, modified into a cardigan

A Christmas present for Mom, some socks. I love the colors on these and realized after I was done that I did part of the pattern a wee bit wrong, but I was consistent and did it wrong the entire way through so it doesn’t matter.

Pattern – Hedera by Cookie A.

Mittens for me, made to match a scarf that as of yet is pictureless. I love these, and feel a little thrill every time I wear them.

Pattern – Emma’s Mittens by Minh Hoang

Next on the production line is a sweater for Ethan that has turned into a nightmare and a pair of socks for myself. Pictures to follow (hopefully less than two years from now, but no promises!).

They were all very excited.

Titus thinks we got the right one.

Timber!

It didn’t look so big outside.

The house may not look like the box cover, but it’ll do. I have a sneaking suspicion it will taste just as delicious.